Letters
by Madoneko
Summary: Trees like hourglasses, graves, milliseconds- My locations can only exist if my centrepoint stays –you. A story about life, love, and friends who will get up at 1 in the morning just because I want to go through a pile of letters. SakuCentric.


Don't own Naruto. This is a oneshot for Vesper-chan's contest, enjoy. R&R appreciated.

* * *

**Letters**

I can never, _ever_, forget the desperate chill of that inky night air as we stood there, like statues, worn from a downpour, soaked –_not daring to breathe_- holding in our shattered breaths beneath millions of flickers of light. It was the moment I knew that he was the one. That he was mine. That perhaps, just maybe, two human beings could be meant for each other.

_Life, what a wondrous thing_, I will muse. How it carves away the human soul; a sanctified sculptor. How it takes a blank slate and writes on it; a story. And how amazing that story is, that story is us- _this is how we happen_.

I will tell you a story, _my story_. I am Haruno Sakura. I was born March 28, 1991. I am five foot six, and I have a very unnatural hair colour of bright hella-freaking-pink, and radioactive green eyes to match. I am a very odd little leprechaun, currently enrolled in West Konoha College. I live in a little studio apartment that I believe could very well be 5 square inches in area, and I am currently most avidly searching for the pile of letters with which to tell you my story–

Aha! Look at this; my report card from second grade. I tell you, I was a whiz kid. Talented like no other. With my denim overalls and my little red polo, I dominated every test flung my way. Math, haha, _a cinch_. Spelling? In my S-L-E-E-P. English, God- I was incredible. The way I distinguished those sentences, ha! The dog cannot jump _through_ the fence! No way! What a preposterous notion!

(…Well, unless that dog had the uncanny ability to reform its matter into such small segments that they could dissipate through the oxygen cracks in the wood of the fence… in which it definitely _could _jump through the fence. But I have yet to meet a dog who can do this, so my concept stands.)

Sorry, I know those letters are around here somewhere. I lose everything, no joke. I remember once Sasuke entrusted me with his Cryptozoology binder because I wanted to look at the pretty pictures of weird-ass mermen, unicorns, and ducks with 12 wings. _12 wings?_ I would later ask Sasuke, _why not… 12 _million _wings?!!_

And as I put my pinky to my lips and raised my eyebrow in a very Dr. Evil like fashion, he would put his hand to his forehead and sigh. "Cryptozoology is not a joke, Sakura, it's a real thing."

I didn't listen. I was too preoccupied making the "dun dun dunnnn" noises in my head.

Anyway, so he let me borrow it for a while, but then the week before his midterm he all of a suddenly decided he needed it back. But by then it was long gone, covered in job applications and bottles of empty vitamin waters and worn copies of book s like Dante's Inferno. I swear; I love reading that stuff. People with boulders strapped to their backs? That sounds just as much fun as the DMV!

So I strapped on my diving gear, suiting myself up with oxygen tanks and helmets pre-covered in seaweed, ready to search for the _Lost Binder of the Clacklebuns_ (many-winged-ducks) in the _Copse of Doom_ (my studio apartment). But, as I was in the middle of strapping on my flippers, Sasuke told me to forget it- most of his notes were typed anyway.

Moral of the story being; do not entrust in Haruno Sakura what you wish to ever see again-

Oh. I found them. Right under my Office themed notebook and a list of things that should be done by the time I'm 18. Shit, I still haven't fed my goldfish.

Oh well. Wow, these are really well-worn. I mean, I read them a lot, yeah, but honestly, at the point in which the word 'memory' starts looking like 'chainsaw chicken' it means either I'm going blind or crazy. And I have yet to lose my eyesight, so perhaps it's time I strapped on my diving gear and looked for my marbles.

Hah, reading these always brings up memories. Always makes me kinda lonely too. Hold on, before I go through them I better text up the rat pack. My main men. The only people in the world who will get up at 1 in the morning just because I want to go through a pile of letters.

And before I have finished half of my triple-x vitamin water, Sasuke has let himself into my apartment. He smiles comfortingly, sitting beside me on my place on the floor. "How are you doing Sakura?" He asks, and I tell him I'm tired of banging his mother. He expects this answer and when it comes he rubs my back soothingly, shaking his head. "I know you are."

And with this said, in walks Shikamaru. He's whining and complaining about troublesome pink-haired-women, and I tell him it's nice to see him too. He sits down on my other side, shoving away a rough draft of my creative writing essay, and asks if Neji is going to bring more vitamin water.

As I text said white-eyed freak to make sure (on-pain-of-death) he does, Sai ambles in and takes a seat next to Sasuke, asking how I am. When Sasuke replies "Tired of banging my mother", Sai rolls his eyes. "So she's upset and doesn't have the guts to tell us then? Women."

"Shut up you anti-social prick." Is my response after closing my EnV2 up, the screen reading, _way ahead of u. _

Shikamaru asks Sai if speaking of which, did he get the notes for government, and pulls out a cigarette. Sai tells him he'll make a copy and I remind Shikamaru my apartment in non-smoking, and that he is not permitted to 'smoke a drag'. He replies with 'what a drag'. And meanwhile somewhere out there, a murderer _drag_s a dead body to his car. I voice this thought and Sasuke shakes his head in disbelief.

"I have no idea how you always manage to work killing people into a conversation." He says, and Neji takes this time to hobble in with a six-pack of vitamin water. He gives it to Sasuke to deal out and gracefully flops down next to Shikamaru. It is almost a complete circle-- only the gap across from me being a tell-tale sign it isn't. I stretch my legs out in a feeble attempt to fill it up.

The others notice this, and Shikamaru takes me in his arms. "We are here for you Sakura-"

The unspoken "-even if he isn't." Lingers in the air, choking me. Because they are my boys, they are my friends and my family and my _life,_ but he- I twitch my legs in the empty space, because it's actually starting to _scare_ me a little –he is the one. My one and only.

They know it's one of those nights. They know I'm terrified he's not coming back, and Neji finally sighs and moves closer to Sai in an attempt to close the gap.

Sasuke rubs my arm and awkwardly attempts to comfort me by pulling out the letters and asking which one we should read first. Sai suggests the one where Naruto starts complaining about the camouflage just as Shikamaru suggests the one in which my poetry is quoted.

I laugh at the suggestion; I know my boys prize my poetry more than they should. I'm the only one with a writing major, none of them can write for shit. I remember Neji actually paid me to write his English paper once; he just couldn't grasp Heart of Darkness. "Too many descriptions…" He had complained with a sigh. "And I have to study for my chem. final."

I agreed to do it for free because a) it wasn't that hard and b) I hate taking money from my friends. I'd let him take me out for lunch instead. And God, I love Chinese food. I think there's something wrong with me. Naruto, even though he prefers Panda Express like food-chains, always treats me out at this lovely little gourmet place down the street and it has the best sweet and sour stuff. Sometimes I think he cossets me too much, so I make his ramen in return.

Neji agrees he would like to read the one with my poetry, but I remark I rather like the one about the camouflage, so it is done. Sasuke picks up the crumpled lined paper dotted with chicken-scratch writing and clears his throat;

"…_Sakura-chan,_

_The guy in charge keeps looking at me and I'm really scared he's gonna rape me. My perfect body is only for you babe, but honestly, I wish you were here to beat this guy up. I miss you tons and tons, you know that right?  
_

_I do not enjoy wearing this. It is uncomfortable and ugly and a crime against my amazing style of fashion. Camouflage is so gross and unnecessary and ugh. I hope this never comes into fashion. Blending in is not something I like to do!!! Hey, speaking of which, do you still have my orange jacket? It'll probably be getting cold out there soon, and it's quite a warm article of clothing, as you know. Since I, your personal heater, cannot be there to warm you, please make do with my jacket. I'll be back in a couple years, but for now use that jacket._

_Oh, and tell the guys to look after you. If anything happens to you, I'm killing Sasuke first. Then Sai then Neji. Shikamaru, you can live, but only because I might need you later on. _

_Anyway, I'm doing fine. I know you're worried but don't be. I'm tough, I'll be back in Konoha before you guys know it. _

_Love you lots Beautiful, I'll talk to you soon. _

_-Naruto xox_"

Sasuke finishes reading and glances over to see Sai grinning and Shikamaru's hand entwined in mine. I'm clenching it so hard, hurting and aching as I'm picturing my boy's blue eyes shining as he writes to me, trying his hardest to keep his writing legible. I picture the times before he was shipped out, when I would run my fingers over the whisker-marks on his face, resting my forehead against his, smiling.

His skin, I would revel at the touch, and he would lean in and kiss me oh-so-gently, softly, basking in the moment. His lips, so warm, so soft, I would kiss him back tenderly, nothing but content to touch them. And our eyes would close, and it would be just us.

And Naruto, he is still here. My fingertips tingle at the memory of holding him in my arms—running my fingers through his hair, I crave him. The way his eyelashes move and the touch of his lips on mine—

Oh, if only.

But Sasuke has picked up the next letter, and this time, he smiles at the words too.

"…_Sakura,_

_I miss you tons, not even kidding. It's really, really REALLY hot out here and there's way too much sand. Tell the bastards I miss them too and that its not gay. And no, I haven't turned gay Sai. Obviously. Oh, and sorry about the phone call Shikamaru. I know you hate being woken up that early but I wanted to say hi to Sakura-Chan before I went into battle and that was my only call and little-miss-Forgetful over here had her phone turned off. Make sure you guys keep taking care of her by the way. _

_Anywho Sakura-Chan, I hope your doing good. I was reading your letter the one you sent with the trees poem and I've memorized it. Didn't think I was that smart, huh?! Haha, I miss you babe. No words can be truer than your own, keep being smart Gorgeous. I'm in good health and I'll see you soon._

_Naruto xoxo_

_PS: If you don't remember it babe, I'll write it back to you :)"_

My boys smile sadly as they mentally recite my poem with the mess of words that Naruto calls a letter— I read it back to myself. I too have memorized it, but poems are meant to be read. And I am a poet-- this is my story, I want it to be read.

_Trees like hourglasses, graves, milliseconds-_

_My locations can only exist if my centrepoint stays –you. _

_Before improving, it always gets darker_

_How long before I can be in your arms? _

_Trees, branches tipping precariously- lifting. Roots, holding, being the other side. _

_One being –sands of leaves and bark._

_How twisted can we be- how long before the branches return to the roots-_

_Only in relation to the earth can they grow- two parts to one whole._

_Trees like hourglasses, I'll wait for you--  
_

_Sands tick together, the sounds so small only I can hear them._

And I am awoken just hearing the words. Tears hide behind my eyes, so latent, so painful, but I know I have my boys, and I know they will take care of me. They are my family, my friends, my tutelary unknowings. They will protect me from the gap in our circle. The one friend gone, _away_—

Because the gap, no matter how small, never ceases to frighten me. Whispering to me, as I lay among the prone forms of my letters, _"He might not come back, he might not come back..."_

Like a music box of horrors, it plays to me. I cannot sleep while it dances.

_Hasten to drown into beautiful eyes  
Walk within my poetry, this dying music  
- My loveletter to nobody_

The boys have gone home to sleep, and I am alone, with nothing but my letters. I write and rewrite what I can say, continuing to beg life to bring my boy home.

Because I can never, _ever_, forget the desperate chill of that inky night air as we stood there, like statues, worn from a downpour, soaked –_not daring to breathe_- holding in our shattered breaths beneath millions of flickers of light.

My eyes clouded with so many tears I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. He held me -the solid oh-so-crumbling form of me- and reminded me I was his world.

"_You are my world._"

That he cared for me.

"_I care for you._"

That I was his and he was mine, and we were two humans just _meant_ for each other because he whispered-- "_I love you._"

I remember looking up and into his eyes, clenching onto him, and I remember the tears I saw run from them. I remember knowing he had to go but wishing he didn't. I remember laughing because we were doing this in the middle of the street and this was the last time I would _see_ him and _hold_ him and _be_ with _him,_ and the moment could not be long enough. I remember laughing because I knew that this moment would always be too short, no matter how long I tried to drag it out.

Hours would tick by as the clouds would brush the ink of the sky and the trees would watch us, not comprehending this odd binding between these two humans, not realizing -as the moment ticked away and the sand rushed- that they were witnessing my story.

Because this moment, it was the moment I knew that he was the one. That he was mine. That perhaps, just maybe, two human beings could be meant for each other.

It was the last moment I saw him. As he held me, and I held him, begging life to let him stay.

Unfolding the letters, I will try to push away my fears. I will read them, watching as my boy smiles through his words. I hope he is looking out at the sky as I am—

Because I don't know if he is coming back. I wish I did, but I don't. I can only hope and beg and plead life to let him return. Because life_, what a wondrous thing_, I muse. How it carves away the human soul; a sanctified sculptor. How it takes a blank slate and writes on it; a story. And how amazing that story is, that story is _us_- _this is how we happen_.

My chapters, this story of ours, told in letters. Naruto is my co-author, life is the publisher, and these love-letters are just _us_. So as that gap taunts me with the possibilities, I'll crowd it with letters. Because for now, they are all I have. And I'll pick up a letter that's fallen astray, and find it written so much like my boy it's almost unbearable--

But I read the letter once more. And I choose to single out the paragon of my _world_-- the three perfect words that tell _my story_. And they read back, oh so subtly;

_"I miss you"_

And I find myself laughing as the tears drip down my face, pure and free.

_._

.

.

.

.

_If you read this line, remember not the hand that wrote it  
Remember only the verse, songmaker's cry the one without tears  
For I've given this its strength and it has become my only strength.  
-Nightwish_


End file.
